Page 93 of Foul Days

“Dear God, Kosara!” Malamir turned to her. “You stink of garlic. Why is your hair soaking wet?”

“Malamir…” Kosara said in her best schoolteacher’s voice. It came out stuttered since her teeth were chattering. “Malamir,” she repeated, “this is a karakonjul.”

“I know. Don’t worry, he’s been trained.”

“Malamir,” Kosara said, slowly. Patiently. “You can’t train karakonjuls.”

Malamir lifted his eyebrows. He whistled. The karakonjul had started to wander off, but it immediately circled back to him. Its muzzle was still black, and saliva bubbled in the corner of its mouth. It was only then that Kosara noticed the karakonjul wore a collar, with the name “Button” hanging off it on a golden disc. Button!

Malamir ruffled the karakonjul’s head. “Who’s a good boy! Go say hello to Aunty Kosara.”

The beast trotted to Kosara. She did her best to suppress her instincts screaming at her to run, wondering the entire time if she was making a mistake and should, in fact, run. The karakonjul placed two large paws on her knees and looked up at her. The upir’s blood dripped from its mouth and landed on the toes of her boots.

“Um, good boy.” Kosara carefully patted its head. Its fur was surprisingly soft and smelled like daisies. Malamir must have shampooed it.

“How did you train him?” Kosara asked.

“With lots of patience and treats. We had a rocky start, I have to admit.” Malamir pulled up his sleeve to show her a red bite impression, now healing. “But I think we’re finally on the right track. Right, Button?”

The karakonjul gave out a short bark.

Kosara took a step away from it. “How did you find us?”

“I heard the screams.”

“From your house?”

“No. Button and I just happened to be passing by.”

Kosara was left speechless for a second. “You followed us? What kind of idiot goes into the graveyard in the middle of the Foul Days?”

“Well…” Asen said.

“We didn’t have a choice.”

Malamir shrugged. “You were taking your time in here, and I thought you might need a hand.” He giggled, lifting one hand in the air. Half his fingers were still bound, the bandages now soaked in sticky upir blood. That couldn’t be sanitary.

“Why are you looking at me like that, doll?” Malamir asked. “I just saved you from a bunch of hungry upirs.”

Kosara fidgeted. Perhaps she was coming across as a bit ungrateful. At the same time, she couldn’t believe she’d just been saved by a man who could barely stand up and his pet karakonjul.

“Well,” she said, “thank you. But I assure you I had the situation under control. You should be in bed.”

And that karakonjul should be in a cage, she thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. She was worried the beast could understand her. Its teeth were dangerously close to her calves.

“I’ve been in bed long enough. I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Then read a book! Honestly, Malamir, you’re not in a condition to be hunting upirs.”

Malamir stumbled, leaning heavily on his crutches. “Perhaps you’re right, doll.”

“Of course I’m right!” Kosara said. “Come on. We need to get you home.”

Kosara let him lean on her and led him towards the door. The karakonjul followed them, wagging its tail.

They made their way back to the graveyard gate without meeting any more upirs. Kosara hated to admit it, but she strongly suspected she had Button to thank for that.

A pet karakonjul. Utter nonsense.

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